a thousand dying sunsets
by refracted
Summary: Believe it or not—it takes a lot of love to hate you like this.


**note: **this is alternate universe.  
what can i say? i like wedding fics.  
one day, i _might_ write a happy one.

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When she sees him again for the first time in six years, it is far in the distance.

She is amongst the crowd at a business convention and being a highly regarded prodigy in medicine, she was obliged to attend. Sasuke is surrounded by beseeching eyes and Sakura realises, rather belatedly, he is the head of the Uchiha Corporation which sponsors this convention.

Sakura can find the touches of youth when they were eighteen, but more than she wants to acknowledge, there are also signs of adulthood. Sasuke's face had always been finely sculpted, however now his lines are even more angular and his onyx eyes sharper. His complexion has weathered from innocence, ageing with responsibility and concentration.

He is wearing a a sleek black suit, matched by slacks and a tie tightly knit around his neck. Nothing in Sasuke's business composition is unkempt, Sakura thinks somewhat disappointedly, apart from his fond, artistic hair.

There is an aching in Sakura's chest as she recognises the indecipherable space between them. Removing her green eyes from him, she finally recognises what is causing the discomforting atmosphere. A woman.

The woman is striking, Sakura notices first. She is wearing champagne heels, complete with a golden, strapless and empire-waist dress which unravels in stylish tresses to the ground. Each movement she sways with her curvaceous figure has her shimmer with glamour.

Sakura remembers Sasuke favoured blondes the most. The woman is blonde. Sakura also realises, remorsefully in fact, that her eyes have the hue of blue he endeared the most—heavier than the sky, but warmer than the ocean.

Sakura swallows as she watches him lift a glass of alcohol to his lips, smirking affectionately to the woman beside him. Sasuke has grown, Sakura knows with cruelty, into almost everything she knew he would be. He is successful, charismatic and distinctive.

She tries to release the sorrow that bottles her smile as an individual asks her about the prestigious hospital she works at. Sakura forcefully pushes the words Sasuke once said to the back of her mind, words which told her the opposite of what she was seeing.

* * *

He approaches her late into the convention, when she is seated at a lone table.

Sakura expects this: she can feel the idiosyncratic burn of his stare from metres away. It is hard not to take notice of someone with pink hair, Sakura muses, especially when the pink hair is poised into a high bun.

He walks in front of her, standing still as he addresses her with a smooth, careful voice. "Sakura."

She brushes the curls which linger in front of her eyes as she looks up towards him. Sasuke's stance is firm, his height adding to the condescension between them, the unreachable superiority. The wine is bitter in her throat when she replies, "Sasuke."

They look at each other for a few moments before Sakura decides the silence is becoming akin to piercing poison. "I have found," she starts off conversationally, as her stare trails to the woman again, "You're with someone."

Sasuke follows her glance. "Ah," he responds evenly, "You saw her."

Sakura can't help but to smile. His remarks are as bland as usual. Sakura nods, "She's beautiful." There is acid in her tone but after years of masking, she has learnt how to lessen venom into mere pinches of salt.

His eyes are hard as he studies her. "Yes," he resolves to answer, though she fails to find the concrete confidence in his reply. She motions for him and after seconds he complies, seating himself robotically.

Sakura wonders, is there anything she could really say to change how things were between them? There was an unmeasurable rift, she could feel, one that will never be healed. Sakura looks back at the times where they could amiably converse with each other and knows she hasn't let go of that.

She doesn't know if she can let go of that. He was one of the greatest things to ever happen to her. So, as an old friend would, she asks in the most sincere camaraderie she can manage, "Am I invited to the wedding?" Her eyes flicker to the poignant accessory on his ring finger.

His hand closes immediately into a fist. "I suppose," Sasuke says, "Now you are, at least."

There are pins in her skin as she stands up from her seat, gathering her bag. She's shaking her head before she even knows it, because she feels as if she's been excluded from Sasuke's life. She knows they haven't talked for six years, but if it were the other way around and she were the one who had moved on and was _happy_, she would've invited him without a second doubt.

Sasuke would always be a part of her life. Wasn't she a part of his?

Instead of expressing these thoughts before she leaves, all Sakura murmurs is a blasphemic, "Then I'll come."

* * *

The wedding is like an intricate fairytale when Sakura arrives, one which is suit for a king and a queen.

Sasuke reserves one of the front row seats for her, though Sakura begins to aimlessly question whether that was a good idea or not. Her expression is closed as she walks into the traditional chapel, with hundreds of associates and close friends of Sasuke in front of her.

Politely smiling but revealing nothing underneath, she passes those she knows and seats herself. Sasuke is at the front of the chapel, adorned with a classic tuxedo and looking so beautiful but unfamiliar at all the same time.

Sakura digs her fingernails into her skin to stop the impulse of reaching forward to embrace him. The warmth in her chest blossoms as it did when she were eighteen years old and she sorely hopes this event will have her change.

Sasuke doesn't meet her eyes once in the ceremony. Sakura can't decipher whether this is because he doesn't want to or he doesn't realise she is there. She highly doubts it is the latter and accepts with grace that the world is only so tragically still for her.

The woman enters the chapel, the sight of her illuminating the walls. Her hair is plaited perfectly with a translucent veil accompanying it. Her wedding dress is immaculate—the brightest white Sakura has seen and the longest without looking too extravagant.

This time around, her blonde hair and blue eyes are not the facets Sakura notices. It is the bouquet of cherry blossoms the woman is carrying as she walks down the too short aisle.

The rest of the ceremony passes and Sakura doesn't know whether she will be able to erase the image of Sasuke and another woman that isn't her facing each other while exchanging vows. Sasuke's lips mouth two words of affirmation and Sakura breaks.

When the two kiss, the audience erupts in applause and Sakura doesn't hear a thing. The recently wedded hold each other's hands, Sasuke smirking and the woman smiling as they walk for the last time down the aisle, showered with all flowers.

Within minutes, Sakura is the only remaining person in the chapel. She unlocks her bloodied fingernails from her indented skin, bringing a shaking hand to brush her wet eyelashes.

* * *

Unceremoniously, and perhaps carelessly, he asks her to dance once.

The woman is paired with who she assumes is Sasuke's best friend. This best friend shares the blonde hair and blue eyes as the woman and Sakura knows these are the two people Sasuke cherishes the most now. Sakura is merely a washed-out imitation.

But Sasuke is asking her to dance and Sakura has never been one to refuse him. He leads her to the dance floor under the light of a chandelier He places his hands on his shoulder and her waist, the sudden vertigo returning to her system again. This is what Sasuke makes Sakura feel like: amongst space and about to fall into an endless abyss.

She half-heartedly returns his gesture by placing her own hands in their respective positions. Only seconds into the song does Sasuke speak, the deepness of his voice resonating, "Are you happy for me?"

What a strange question. Was she happy for Sasuke? Yes. Was she happy for herself? No. She checks Sasuke's expression, which is guarded but shows hints of disappointment if she were to reply negatively.

The breath she exhales is crisp, like a whisper of cold mist. "Of course."

Sasuke's shoulders relax in response and his expression abruptly becomes kinder, softer almost. "Thank you for coming, Sakura." The way he says her name is so reminiscent of halcyon days which are long gone and a nostalgic shudder sweeps through her body.

She holds back the tears and hopes he doesn't find it in her throaty voice, "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

The song ends. They slow, but don't withdraw from their positions. Sasuke looks at her as if he's struggling with words to be said. Instead, he closes his eyes and inhales, retracting his hands from her body.

"I have to return to my wife," he whispers, weaker than it should sound, but determined nonetheless.

Sasuke dissipates into the crowd and Sakura understands, this is the end.

* * *

The last event Sakura takes part of in the wedding is the bouquet catch.

Sakura doesn't believe in clichés, she is sure of that now. She certainly doesn't believe in fate, destiny or happily ever afters. There is no meant to be, only coincidences which mirror cosmic significances.

But Sakura is a doctor and doctors believe in perseverance, if not faith. She reaches the conglomeration of females who await the throwing of the bouquet. The woman smiles candidly at them before turning her back on them, preparing for the event.

There is a zealous countdown and on the count of three, the woman throws the bouquet into the air. It soars seamlessly, reaching above prying hands. Before she is aware, she has poised her own hands and a batch of cherry blossoms lay gentle in her fingers.

The audience erupts into applause again. Sakura hears it now.

The woman walks through the crowd, a grin beaming on her flawless face. She reaches towards Sakura and congratulates her, though Sakura feels _she _is the one who should be congratulated. The woman may not be her, Sakura decides, however she is clearly magnanimous.

Sakura searches for Sasuke with her eyes and finds him seated at the table for the groom and bride. She hopes Sasuke can understand there is an acceptance she is trying to communicate, especially of the bride. He does.

Sasuke smiles at her, small but sweet and Sakura holds the bouquet closer to her chest, feeling herself come alive again. She turns on her heel, exiting the doors and find the stars in the night sky which greet her dangle from the clouds like globes of hope.

Everything will be alright.


End file.
